My Husband's Wife(79)

Tentatively she raised the silver knocker on the glossy black door, tucking the flowers she had brought under her arm in order to do so. When Ed opened it (‘Come in! Come in!’) she marvelled at the black and white tiles in the hall. Every room was like a page in a magazine. White everywhere. White and glass. Glass coffee tables. White walls. White counters in the kitchen.

They must have a great deal of money to afford all this. Yet it was almost as if Lily had banished colour.

‘Roses!’ Ed buried his face in the bunch which she’d bought, at half price, from a street flower seller about to shut up for the night. ‘What a wonderful smell. And such an amazing pink, like blushing cheeks. Now why don’t you sit here. Lily will be down in a minute.’

If it was her, Carla told herself, taking a seat at the glass table in the kitchen, she would put a rustic pine bench there and a scarlet rug there …

‘Welcome,’ said Lily, suddenly appearing through the door.

Carla airkissed her hostess’s cheeks, taking in her cream trousers and the stylish beige pumps on her feet. If only she had the money to dress like that instead of buying second-hand or relying on Mamma’s sewing skills! ‘Thank you for having me.’

‘Thank you for coming. Like I said on the phone, I’m only sorry it’s taken us a while. Ed? Is dinner ready now?’

‘Dinner’ was fish pie from a packet. At home, that would have been considered a disgrace. Meals had to be made from scratch; the process took hours. It was a mark of respect for the guests.

Meanwhile, try as she might to make small talk, the atmosphere was tight. ‘Your home,’ said Carla, in desperation, ‘is very minimalist.’ Since coming back, Carla had made a point of learning a new English word every day. This was one of them. She’d been waiting for an opportunity to use it.

Lily dug the serving spoon into the dish so the juices flooded over the edges. ‘It’s so that all my husband’s paintings will stand out.’

All? But there were only two that she could see.

‘I seem to have lost my creative mojo,’ said Ed drily, topping up his and Carla’s wine glasses but not Lily’s. She had sparkling water. ‘I’ve been trying all kinds of things but nothing works.’

Something had happened to this couple since she had last seen them in the gallery. They looked empty somehow. Someone had switched off a light inside their souls.

‘I don’t understand.’

Ed picked up his knife and fork. Carla followed suit. Lily, she noticed, didn’t even bother. It was as if the food in front of her wasn’t there.

‘I have run out of inspiration. It’s partly because of Tom. He hasn’t been … well.’

He stopped as Lily flashed him a warning look.

Aware the atmosphere was getting worse, Carla tried to choose her words carefully. ‘But he is better now?’

‘Better?’ Ed took another large slug of wine and laughed hoarsely. ‘Tom will never be better, and –’

‘Ed.’ Lily’s voice carved through the air. ‘We must not inflict our troubles on our guest. Now tell me, Carla. How is your course going?’

She braced herself to look directly at the woman opposite. ‘Very good, thank you.’

Somehow, Carla told herself, as she spoke lightly about the past, how she’d loved cooking with Lily as a child, and then described the various lectures she’d been to recently, she had to find a way to bring Larry – no, Tony – into the conversation.

As she finished talking, there was silence. Ed and Lily both seemed completely absorbed in the table in front of them. Fine, Carla thought, I’ll just launch straight in.

‘Actually,’ she said quickly, ‘I was wondering if you could tell me how I could find Mr Gordon. My mother, she has a message for him. I’ve emailed his clerk but received a reply to say he is not available at present.’

Lily visibly twitched.

Ed had almost finished half a bottle now. ‘You can say that again,’ he spluttered.

‘The reason he’s not available at present, Carla, is because Tony is very ill,’ said Lily slowly, pushing her plate to one side even though she had barely touched her food. ‘In fact, he’s in a hospice, not far from here.’

‘A hospice?’ Carla felt a catch in her throat. An excited catch that knew it ought to be shocked instead.

‘He has cancer. The poor man doesn’t have much time.’

‘Poor man?’ Ed snorted. ‘That’s not what you’ve said about him to me.’ Then he turned to Carla. ‘The two of them had some kind of falling out over a case. But my wife here can’t go into details because it’s confidential.’ He tapped the side of his nose knowingly. ‘That’s the law for you.’

Lily looked furious. ‘Don’t drink if you can’t control yourself,’ she said coldly.

‘It’s not me who can’t control myself.’ Ed was rising unsteadily to his feet.

‘That’s enough.’

They were arguing as if she wasn’t there! Carla felt another glimmer of excitement. If you wanted to get one step ahead in court, her new tutor had said, it was always better if your opposition was divided.

‘I’m sorry.’ Lily touched her arm as Ed stormed out of the room. ‘Things are difficult at the moment.’ Then she pressed an envelope into her hand. ‘This is a small thank you from us. It’s the award money that Ed won all those years ago, as well as a little extra.’ She spoke fast. Sharply. Without warmth. As if this was a pay-off rather than a proper present.